


A Sticky Situation

by Leahelisabeth (fortheloveofcamelot)



Series: February Ficlet Challenge [5]
Category: Farscape
Genre: F/M, February Ficlet Challenge, Handcuffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofcamelot/pseuds/Leahelisabeth
Summary: Crichton's getting a little bored of being knocked on the head and tied up.





	A Sticky Situation

“Well, this feels familiar." Crichton pulled experimentally on the cuffs before giving up in disgust. 

“Which time?" Aeryn asked, sweat already plastering her hair to her forehead. 

“Feel like I'm tied up more often than free these days," Crichton sighed. 

“Maybe if you stopped to think for a microt before rushing in like a frelling idiot," Aeryn scowled at him and started searching the metal bed frame for loose screws. 

“All just part of my charm," Crichton grinned.

“Your so called charm does you no good if you're dead," Aeryn shot back.

“Aww Babe, were you worried?" Crichton pushed himself back to his feet, staggering slightly as he crossed the room to her. 

“I'm no infant," she snapped at him. 

Crichton struggled to think of a witty rejoinder but all the blood was rapidly fleeing his head and he collapsed onto the bed somewhat quicker than he meant to. He closed his eyes as the room slowly swirled around him. Gentle fingers brushed the hair back from his face and the leaned into the touch. He dragged his eyes open again to see a softness on her face that he hasn't seen since she disappeared into space with the other Crichton. She changed back to her usual detached look when she noticed him looking. 

Crichton caught her hand as she pulled away. “It's hot in here," he murmured. “You need to sit down, try not to overheat." 

She yanked her away. “What I need is to get us out of here. I'm not going to let you die, Crichton. Not..." She shut her mouth firmly, pain etched on her features. “Not again," she whispered. 

There was nothing he could say to that. She leaned forward and touched her forehead to his. Crichton out his hand to her cheek and they stayed there for a long moment, breathing the same air. And oh how he wanted to kiss her, to make her forget she'd ever lost him, or a version of him. But it wasn't what she needed. He lay still and let her take the comfort she needed from him. 

After a while, she pulled away and started pulling at the bed frame again. A few moments later she triumphantly brandished a long thin piece of metal. “Bimbo!" She grinned down at him and started working on his cuffs.

Crichton sighed. “Bingo..."


End file.
